


The Stars could Never Be as Beautiful as my Name Upon Your Lips

by Atlanta_Black



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fair Folk, Female Harry Potter, Female Tom Riddle, Femslash, It's Soft, Prophecy, Tasmine is a princess, and then it ping pongs all over the place, and then it's angst, fae, medieval drama, period drama, very very very very very very loosely based off of BBC Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: Tasmine Melody Riddle is born into a world of wealth. Of diamonds and silk andYes, my lady. Anything for you, my lady.Is born into a world where she is granted anything and everything she desires even if she doesn’t deserve it.In this world, she deserves it and yet still, it changes nothing.She’s born during the winter and the peasants whispermaybe it’s the winter that froze her father’s heart against her.The nobles whisper behind their hands aboutblood and peasants do not belong on the throne. Perhaps that is why he hates his daughter. Because the people will never truly be loyal to him, not while she’s alive.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46
Collections: Chamber of Secrets' Winter Exchange (2019), Tomarrymort Live Writes





	The Stars could Never Be as Beautiful as my Name Upon Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okunichh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okunichh/gifts).



> SO! This was supposed to be a one shot but certain characters decided they wanted to meander along at their own pace and so instead it's gonna be two chapters. It would have just been a long one shot but I wanted to get at least part of it posted on time. so...here we go.
> 
> I hope you like it!!!!!!!!!!! <3
> 
> I'm gonna try to get the second chapter posted by the end of christmas!!

Once upon a time there was a kingdom and a King. This in itself is not unusual. 

At one point many years ago, the people had loved their king. Had loved the royal family and had been proud to serve them. This was many years ago. 

Now there is a king named Marvolo and the people whisper, call him _the mad king, the last king._ The outlying villages are shifting restlessly and the people stare at the castle in the distance with hatred, with fear. The end of a royal line is nothing to be taken lightly. It is not something that they are happy about. 

It means war. Means other kingdoms invading and killing. Stealing their children and destroying their traditions.

They say it is the end when Morfin Gaunt, the heir, disappears into the woods one day and never returns. They say it is the end when Marvolo Gaunt dies. 

Merope Gaunt takes the throne, is crowned Queen and the people shift restlessly, cast wary eyes to the borders and wait. Merope stares at the country that is hers and feels something very close to spite settle deep in her bones. 

Perhaps this could have been the story of how she reigned long and well despite the expectations stacked against her. 

This is not that story.

For a while she does reign well. Surprises people with the calmness of her shoulders and surety of her hands. She gives the people hope. They see the kindness in the creases of her eyes and the gentleness in her touch and they whisper _we are saved, we are saved. Merope the Gentle. Merope the Kind._

They whisper too soon. 

There is a boy, as there always is.. A boy with hair like the night and eyes like ice and Merope is enchanted, bewitched. Does unspeakable things to ensure his love, his devotion, his mouth shaping her name like a prayer and his eyes gone soft with enchantment. 

The people stay silent and watch with damning eyes. Watch as the Queen takes one of their own and twists him around her fingers and calls it love.

Perhaps the enchantment would have held. Perhaps she still could have reigned long and well despite the bitterness settling under her skin. 

She gets with child. Becomes too weak to hold onto the enchantments she has tightly wrapped around her hands. They slip and his eyes turn hard, his shoulders tight with anger and she loses the will to fight. Presses her hands to her stomach and whispers _I am sorry, I am sorry, I am so, so sorry. You were meant to be loved, meant to be cherished._

The King looks at the wife he never wanted and the people who watch him with fear in their eyes and he hates. Hates the woman who has taken away his choices. Hates the people who have stood by and done nothing. Hates the child that he has helped create. But he does not leave. Does not give up his throne. 

He sees the paleness of his wife's skin and hears the physicians murmur _there is no chance, she cannot survive this_. Looks at the throne and the lands that are now his and feels vindication curl up under his ribs. She has robbed him of a choice and now he gets to rob her of her kingdom.

  


* * *

  


Tasmine Melody Riddle is born into a world of wealth. Of diamonds and silk and _Yes, my lady. Anything for you, my lady._ Is born into a world where she is granted anything and everything she desires even if she doesn’t deserve it. 

In this world, she deserves it and yet still, it changes nothing. 

She’s born during the winter and the peasants whisper _maybe it’s the winter that froze her father’s heart against her_ . The nobles whisper behind their hands about _blood and peasants do not belong on the throne. Perhaps that is why he hates his daughter. Because the people will never truly be loyal to him, not while she’s alive._

The first five years of her life are the best. Her father ignores her but she is still at an age where it does not matter, because she does not realize it should. Does not realize that the cold man with the sharp circle sitting atop his head is anything other than a distraction away from the things that really matter. 

Things like the way Lady Potter smiles at her with gentle eyes and lets her carefully hold Hari. Like the way Hari blinks up at her with too green eyes and curls her tiny fist around Tasmine's index finger. Like the way she races through the castle with Bella, eyes bright and hands clamped over their mouths to muffle the giggles. The way Lord Black throws her in the air and spins her around when none of the other nobles will do anything other than gently pat her head. 

She knows what matters and it is not the cold man who stares at her with violence itching at his fingers.

She is seven before she truly understands that the cold man is her Father. She watches Lord Potter ruffle Hari's hair and then turns speculative eyes on the man who has barely ever spoken to her and feels something cold crawl up her throat and settle in the hollows between her bones. Something, aching and wanting. Does not understand why a man that people call her father, _call King_ , does not treat her the way that Fathers should treat their children. 

She stubbornly decides not to care. This is not something that she gets from either of her parents. This is something that she has learned from Lord Black. From the way he snarls at his brother and loudly proclaims that the only family he needs is the Potters. Something she has learned from the way that Lady Potter's shoulders tense when she walks around the lower town and the lady with the too long neck glares at her. 

There is very little of her parents in her. She inherited her mother's blood. She gained her looks and her strong mind from her father. But everything that makes her Tasmine was learned from the people who took the time to look at her and see a child. Took the time to look at her and see a little girl who needed someone to protect her.

  


* * *

  


Tasmine has many friends. How could she not? 

But her best friend, her best friend is Hari. 

She's two and holding a newborn Hari, eyes wide with awe and Hari's fist curled tightly around her own small finger. Fuzz barely covering her head and face still pink. Lily stares at them both from her place on the bed, eyes soft and then gestures for Tasmine to settle on the bed next to her. 

She's three and clapping her hands as Hari takes her first steps, hair a mess and face scrunched up in concentration. James laughs from his seat and cheers Hari on as she goes. 

She's four and holding Hari while she cries, knees scraped and bleeding. _It's okay, it's okay. I'm here, everything is okay. I promise._ I will always protect you, will always be here for you. Sirius comes running down the stairs, eyes frantic and stands there, fingers tight around the railing as he watches Tasmine hold Hari. She doesn't understand the look on his face, the way his mouth is pulled tight. Doesn't understand and doesn't care. 

She's five and holds a finger to her lips as they sneak into the kitchen. Hands clasped tightly together, eyes bright with glee. They nearly trip over Hermione, the baker’s daughter, and she stares at them, lips pursed, tiny hands balled into fists on her hips. They all burst into giggles eventually and Hermione helps them open the pantry and get out without getting caught. 

She's six and braiding flowers into the wildness that is Hari's hair. _We'll be friends forever, right Tas?_ Harry asks, face tilted up towards the sun. Tasmine stares at her, at the light breaking across her skin. _Always, Hari. I will always be your friend._ she whispers fiercely, fingers catching on a tangle in Hari's hair. Hari opens her eyes and smiles, bright, beautiful. The promise settles in the area beneath her ribs and she holds it tightly.

She's seven and Lily is screaming. Is burning with anger and her hair is sparking in a way that Tasmine has never seen before now. The room is on fire and Sirius is grabbing her, pulling her out before she can do more than cast her eyes around wildy for Hari. 

Where is Hari?

The King storms into the room and demands that she stop. Demands that she be quiet and stop destroying his castle. 

_It is not your castle._ Lily hisses, venomous in a way that Tasmine has never heard. _It will never be your castle._

The King stares at her, shoulders tight. _I could have you burned._ he snarls and Tasmine shrieks. Strains against the arms holding her back. She does not understand what is happening but she understands this. Understands what a burning is. Understands what it means. 

The King turns to stare at her, face harsh in the light of the flames and then strides out of the room, knocking into Sirius's shoulder as he passes. 

Lily is still screaming and Tasmine does not understand where Hari is. 

James comes running, eyes frantic and he takes in the destruction of the room and Lily screaming herself hoarse in the middle of it. 

Tasmine is shrieking, crying, screaming for Hari. She doesn't understand, she doesn't understand. 

The castle nearly burns down but Lady Alice pushes her way into the room, eyes sad and puts the flames out with a whispered word that Tasmine can't hear. 

Sirius sinks down to the floor, arms still wrapped tight around Tasmine and when she eventually quiets, still hiccuping around sobs, she realizes that Sirius is crying too. Tears streaming down his face and she throws her arms around his neck. She doesn't understand. Where is Hari? Where is her friend?

Years later, when her tutors are explaining the history of her country to her, she'll reflect on the words that Lily had hissed at the King and feels spite crawl through her blood. He may sit upon the throne but the people, the people are hers.

  


* * *

  


_Life moves on as life always does._

The King continues to ignore her, although he does his best to make her miserable. Forces her to attend tutors that she does not like. Forces her to learn the ways of the court from people she cannot stand. 

Lily doesn't speak for a full year after Hari's disappearance. And although she does not push Tasmine away, she is also too lost in her own grief to attempt to pull her close. Tasmine sits with her sometimes, when the pain of missing her friend is too much to bear on her own. Braids flowers into her hair and misses the way that Hari's hair had always caught on her fingers. 

Sirius disappears, leaves the castle and the grief behind and James goes eerily quiet in his absence. Doesn't seem to know how to function in a world where Sirius isn't next to his side, where his wife is falling apart from grief and his daughter is _gone_. He stares at Tasmine with blank eyes and runs a gentle hand over her head when she passes by but it is not the same. It can't be the same when Hari isn't here to see it.

_Life moves on._

Tasmine takes to spending more time in her room, spends more time with Bella and lets the bitterness in her chest grow. 

She's twelve when she wakes up to blood staining her sheets and the announcement that it is time for her to begin behaving as a young lady should behave. The announcement comes from the Governess that her father had hired after Hari's disappearance and Tasmine doesn’t put much stock in it. Regardless of how she acted she was still a lady, was still a princess, _their Princess._ What did it matter how she acted when she knew who she was? Minerva didn't seem impressed with that logic. 

Shortly after this she wakes up one morning to Hermione's displeased face. She hadn't spoken with Hermione since Hari had disappeared. Hadn't wanted the reminders that she brought. 

"I've been assigned as your personal maid, my lady." she bites out, bitterness coating each word. 

"You're dismissed. I don't care, get out." she snaps, hands gripping tight at her sheets. 

"I can't." Hermione snaps back, voice flat. "Your Governess was clear that I was to ignore any attempts to dismiss me and that I'm to stay by your side at all times, with the exception of sleeping and other private matters." she doesn't say my lady again, is staring at Tasmine spitefully, fingers curled into her skirts. 

"I don't want your help." she hisses, pushes herself out of bed and heads to her wardrobe to dress herself. 

"Well, it's not always about you, _my lady._ " She says Tasmine's title sarcastically, derision coating her words. "But you wouldn't know anything about that would you?" 

"How dare you!" she snarls, twists around to glare at her and stops short at the tears on Hermione's cheeks.

Hermione glares, face defiant, despite the tears still quietly streaming down her face. "You're not the only one who misses her." She says, grief evident in her voice. 

Tasmine blinks, tries to remember how to breathe around the pain suddenly clutching at her heart. "I know that," she mutters, looks away. "Here, help me get dressed." 

Hermione sniffs but does as she says. They don't speak about Hari after that but she doesn't try to dismiss Hermione again.

  


* * *

  


She's fourteen when Sirius finally comes home. There's still grief carved into his face but it's settled. She's fourteen and still hasn't gotten the full story of what happened seven years ago. Still doesn't really understand where her friend disappeared to or what strange magic it is that Lily used to set the castle on fire. To set the very stones ablaze. 

At this point she's almost too afraid to ask. Doesn't want to bring it up and watch the grief flash over Lily's face, still raw as if Hari had only disappeared yesterday. 

Sirius comes back and James comes alive in a way that he hasn't been in years. Tasmine had nearly forgotten what it looked like to see him bright with joy and she sees Lily sometimes staring at him, head cocked and eyes focused, intent in a way that had become unusual. 

Sirius comes back and the first time he sees her he halts in the middle of the hallway and stares. She dimly recognizes the look in his eyes but doesn't know why, still doesn't understand the intensity that he stares at her with. 

"Your Highness." he murmurs, sweeps into a low bow. "You've grown since I last saw you." 

She stares at him, back stiff and hands held loosely at her side. "Considering that you left for seven years I would hope this doesn't come as a surprise to you." she says, voice level. Hermione shifts uncomfortably at her side. 

He grimaces, eyes her speculatively and drags his eyes over Hermione who is standing next to her. "I had to leave. You're far too young to understand." he finally says, crossing his arms and turning his stare back to her.

She should be used to this. To the insinuations that she is too young to understand. But she had been there too, had been there while Lily screamed and the fire burned and she vividly, painfully remembers the panic in her chest because _she could not see Hari_. "I'm old enough to understand that when your best friend’s child disappears you don't run off and abandon him." she bites out, runs her tongue over her teeth. How dare he. He had held her as she screamed. Who was he to say that she was too young?

He barks out a laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "Oh Tasmine, she didn't disappear." he says, voice light and _false_. "She was taken and really, it's a wonder that Lily can stand to look at you since it's your fault."

  


* * *

  


It takes her a week to get the full story from someone. A week where she genuinely considers having Sirius executed for speaking to her like that. For implying that it's _her_ fault that Hari disappeared. 

It makes her blood burn even thinking about it. Hermione spends the week watching her with wary eyes and is quieter than normal. Less combative than usual. 

She finally goes to Lily and demands the truth. There isn't anyone else she can go to and as much as she doesn't wish to cause Lily pain, she wishes for the truth more. To know why Sirius has spent the last seven years blaming her for Hari's disappearance. 

Lily sighs, opens her arms and once Tasmine is curled up next to her she spins a tale that is nothing like what Tasmine wanted to hear. 

_There was a prophecy._ She whispers, voice shaking. _A seer came to the castle two years before you were born and warned the Queen and the court of something to come._

Tasmine starts at the mention of her mother. She sometimes forgets she has one. No one speaks about the Queen except in whispers that stop when she enters the room and she had spent a large amount of her childhood almost believing Lily was her mother. It's hard to find it within herself to care about the woman who gave her life. 

_We couldn't have guessed that the thing to come was your father. Was the kingdom falling into his hands._

Tasmine clasps Lily hand tight. That's treason. What she just said was treason and she could burn for that. Is sure her father has burned people for less. But… Lily had spoken treason to the king's face before and she was still here. 

Lily continues to spin a story of a world where she had been a peasant girl living in the village at the time of the prophecy and how shortly after, she had ended up marrying James, marrying into wealth. It is hard to look at Lily with her bright hair and shining eyes and imagine her as a peasant. Imagine her as anything other than what she is. 

_I only heard the prophecy in whispers but the whispers were enough for me to understand that people thought I had something to do with it._

_What is it?_ Tasmine whispers, voice shaking, heart heavy. 

_A Queen is born and yet denied her throne_

_A peasant gives birth to a child of wealth_

_The child will be stolen away by those with eyes of starlight_

_Stolen and trained and returned only when the Queen is ready to take back her throne_

_Ready to begin her rule_

_The child sleeps in worlds in between_

_She is coming_

_She is coming_

  


* * *

  


**_Seven Years Later_ **

The grass is wet under her feet. 

The myths had said to come barefoot. To connect to the ground. Let the earth pulse its way through you. _They will know you are there_ . _They will come._

This is a foolish undertaking. Narcissa had warned against it, eyes wide and frightened. Lily had stared at her, worry and disappointment lingering in the creases around her eyes and the tilt of her lips. Bellatrix had laughed and laughed and laughed. _Foolish Princess. You’re going to get yourself stolen away and then who will kill the King?_ Hermione had sighed quietly and asked how she could help. 

Some days she thinks that maybe Hermione is her favorite friend and then brushes that thought away as quick as it comes. 

The undertaking is foolish but it is also hope. The King needs to be disposed of in a way that does not threaten her own rule. That does not leave the people doubting her. If that means turning to the fair folk then that is what she will do. 

She does wish that the guilt sitting in her stomach would go away, doesn’t like the image of Lily’s sad eyes haunting her but it’s too late now. She’s already here. 

Here, with the grass wet under her feet and the wind cold on her skin. The mist clinging to her hair and the forest oddly muted. 

“Dark of heart, fair of skin, I ask the land to bless me and respond.” She pauses, kneels and drags a knife from the soft skin in the middle of her arm to the beginning of the veins in her wrist. “I offer the purity of untouched blood as a gift. I ask you, as the keeper of these lands, to answer my call.” she lets her blood drip onto the ground and then brings her hand down to mix the blood into the grass and into the dirt. 

She waits, feeling slightly foolish. She is the Crown Princess of these lands. Croton is her country and she should not be kneeling in the dirt. She should not be kneeling at all. 

She’s nearly talked herself into leaving when light fills the clearing. A light so bright that she has to close her eyes for fear of them burning out of her skull. She bites her tongue, scrunches her eyes closed as tight as she can. The gods forbid that she go blind. What would the country do with a blind princess. 

The light burning the back of her eyelids dims after a minute and she carefully squints one open and then the other. Picks herself up off the ground, shaking leaves from her dress. At first glance the clearing is empty. On second glance it is still empty. 

She breathes in deeply, fighting back the fury rushing through her blood. How dare they. She was not some lowly peasant to be trifled with. She already wanted to burn them all into ashes, they should not anger her any further. The branches above her head rustle and she freezes. Ah, so someone had come after all. 

She looks up. 

The girl appears shorter than her at first glance and is dressed in what looks like rags. Another cursory glance has them looking like silk and then they’re back to looking like rags. Perhaps the girl isn’t wearing anything at all. She’s not sure she wants to know. 

The girl herself looks odd, distorted. As if the universe couldn't decide on how to make her. Her hair is a strange mess of bright red and inky black. The colors all mixed together. There doesn’t seem to be any pattern to how the colors fall. She’s staring straight at Tasmine, eyes bright with mischief. Her eyes are what catch Tasmine’s attention and hold it. Her eyes are what cause her heart to fall to her knees. 

The girls eyes, one is a warm hazel color that almost glows gold even in the darkness. The other is a shining, glittering shade of green that Tasmine has only ever seen on two people. 

_“Hari.”_ The word tears from her before she can stop it. 

The girl blinks at her, tilts her head, the motion oddly bird like. “Hello Princess, you asked for the protector of the lands. Well here I am.” she bares her teeth in a mockery of a smile. “What would you like from me? Perhaps daddy dearest’s head?” 

Tasmine narrowly resists the urge to sink back down onto the forest floor. There’s no recognition in Hari’s eyes and she can already feel the pain threatening to crush her. She had wanted Hari back but not like this, never like this. 

  


* * *

  


She’ll never forget the heartbreak that carves its way onto Hermione’s face when they step out of the forest. The way she rushes forward and Hari flinches back, eyes narrowed. 

She imagines her own face looks similar. _Do you know who I am?_ She had asked, throat tight with grief. Hari had looked at her, something indiscernible passing through her eyes. _You’re the Queen. The prophesied one. I’ve dreamed of you, your reign is beginning soon._

“She doesn’t know who we are.” she murmurs in Hermione’s ear, trying to keep the shaking from her voice. “She doesn’t remember.” 

Hermione makes a noise somewhere between a whimper and a sob and Tasmine closes her eyes. This is not what she wanted. This is not what she had asked for. 

_Isn’t it?_ Is it not? She knows the prophecy. Has had it burned into her mind for the last seven years. Has dreamed of it, raged at it. What did she expect to happen when she went to the woods? 

She leads the way to the castle, doesn’t look back. Doesn’t want to see whatever look is plastered on Hari’s face. On this strange bastardized version of the girl she loved. 

She can hear Hermione whispering to Hari but she doesn’t hear Hari responding. Finds herself hoping, praying, that she remembers. What is she supposed to tell Lily? What is she going to do when Sirius turns accusing eyes on her? When James goes still and quiet again. The joy draining from him _again._

What is she supposed to do?


End file.
